Sarah
by LNPittman
Summary: The Moppet Girl grows up in the arcade - and finds it the best home she could hope for.


The arcade was her second home. Everyone there understood her.

Well, maybe 'everyone' was an overstatement. Some of the other gamers thought her a bit odd, as much as everyone acknowledged her skill (first to play as Vanellope von Schweetz and first to master her special warp, first to uncover the Q*bert levels of Fix-it Felix Jr, unbeatable Hero's Duty speedrun once a friend convinced her to give the game another try).

Mr. Litwak, though, did. For her first few months coming in, he was simply the smiling older man in stripes, always calm and friendly, greeting each person who entered with equal and genuine warmth.

It was nice.

On the day Wreck-it Ralph failed to show up for her game, though, there had been a moment of connection - she had been concerned about the game, and he had shown concern and sadness as well. Sadness he'd tried to cover with a joke about his nana, but she'd seen it.

The next day Ralph was back, Litwak was more cheerful than ever in his relief, and she found herself fascinated by his love for the machines, the way he knew each and every character by name even though he was as flummoxed as anyone by King Candy's disappearance and Vanellope's debut.

"Did you name the people in the apartment building yourself, Mister Litwak?"

"No, sweetheart." He smiled, not at all bothered by her interruption to his end-of-day cleaning. He straightened, gesturing around. "Y'see, every time a game character has its very own look, there was a programmer who cared enough to give it to 'em. And they name 'em, at the very least for reference while they program. Sometimes it takes a little digging to find them, but it's worth it." A soft chuckle. "And seems only polite to call them by name, even in cases where I _do_ have to give 'em one myself. You don't have to do that, Sarah," he added as she picked up a broom.

"I know. I don't mind."

She started helping him with the chores every evening after that, listening to his stories of past games and arcade events planned and spontaneous. Sometimes he was quiet as she told stories of her own - of a never-quite-emotionally-distant but always working father, a mother who sniffed at her love of the games, of slipping grades or Sophia's remark about her new braces or her cousin's long and eventually fruitful search for a Sugar Rush hoodie from the game's early days in Japan.

Sometimes she felt he was not the only one listening intently, and she soon found herself telling her stories to the machines when Mr. Litwak was in his office going over the day's accounts.

Then she found herself addressing the characters in play.

"Ohhhh. My bad, Felix."

"Sorry Ralph! I've gotten a lot better at this level!"

"All _right_, Van! We did it!"

"I've got your back, ma'am!"

Some of the other gamers thought her a bit odd, but so what? There was someone who understood.

***

As soon as she got a job it was the arcade, and it was the only job she held through high school - summer days and school-year nights amongst blinking machines, playing when she had a spare moment, keeping them all cleaned and sparkling, and pouring her heart out to Mr. Litwak and her favorite characters.

She knew her employer enjoyed the company, and she almost thought the characters did too.

Sometimes she was sure Felix and Ralph perked up at seeing her at the controls.

Sometimes she was sure Vanellope held her trophy-claiming pose longer for Sarah's fistbump as she did for no other player.

Sometimes she was sure Sergeant Calhoun cracked a rare smile when gameplay started with her hefting the lightgun.

Somehow, Mr. Litwak - all of them - became the first to see her school progress reports, the first to hear about club activities. When she started dating she slowly realized she often introduced her dates to Mr. Litwak (and, discreetly, the characters) before her parents, and she swelled with pride when he closed early to see her in the lead of the senior play and even went so far as to close on a Saturday to see her graduate.

They were the first to hear of her college acceptance, and they were what she missed most when she went off for her first semester.

The arcade near school had a Sugar Rush console, but it wasn't the same - not quite. Vanellope lacked her warping ability and her endearing habit of visually stuttering in bright blue codelines, which was all right, but she also looked and even behaved different, which wasn't - a bit more prim and restrained, teal hoodie and striped stockings replaced by a white tracksuit striped in green and gold.

Cute enough, she supposed, but not _her_ Vanellope.

So she stopped going, and made her way through the Business program her parents wanted with an odd sense of loneliness and no real idea what she'd do with such a degree.

The arcade was her first visit when she went home for winter break, and when she walked in just before opening she could almost swear she heard Vanellope - _her_Vanellope - joyously squealing her name.

Her loneliness and her doubts for the future vanished - this was where she belonged.

***

She returned to Litwak's after earning her degree - officially as an accountant, but still working the floor in her black-and-white-stripes. Mr. Litwak worked alongside her as always until his health prevented it.

Then he left her the arcade in his will.

"So is this gonna be Moore's Family Fun Center now?"

She looked at the lawyer who'd come in with her - the papers were finalized here, she wouldn't have it otherwise - and smiled, shaking her head.

"No. Doesn't seem right taking his name off the place."

"No," the lawyer said after a moment. "Guess it doesn't. When are you reopening?"

"Tomorrow," she said, a little too loudly. He blinked, taken aback at the volume, then nodded.

"All right, Sarah. Maybe I'll come by."

"Sounds good. Night."

"Good night."

She stayed alone in the arcade for several minutes, rereading the note she'd found.

_Dear Sarah,_

_All of the kids who come here are something special. But that one day you were so worried about old Ralph and Felix I knew there was something more to you - something that could love this place and the machines and characters as much as I do. And you proved me right, the way you came to me. You've always been family to me, sweetheart, and I am proud to know that you'll keep this place going just as I would._

_Always remember, Sarah. What you love and nurture will love and nurture you. I know you understand that - and me, and them - and I am more grateful for that than I can say._

_Best of luck, now and in all the years to come._

_Love always,_  
_Stanley Laurence Litwak_

She swallowed hard as she tucked the note into her pocket, gazing at the machines.

"Hey guys," she said after a few moments, once she could speak past the lump in her throat. "Guess you heard. This was the last day closed. Tomorrow we're open at the usual time."

She remembered how he'd confessed his strange superstitions to her, how deeply he regretted any permanently unplugged game and how methodically he moved them - one at a time, with several minutes in between, no matter how exasperated any hired help became.

"I guess... I guess you know how much you all mean to me. To both of us."

She glanced at Hero's Duty, Fix-it Felix Jr, and Sugar Rush, now all in a row.

_They just seem to belong together, don't they Sarah?_  
_  
_"So... I... I know I'm not Mister Litwak. But I'm keeping this going... and I'll take care of you just like he did. All right?"

Silence; the games were not even playing their Attract Mode music, and she was caught by a powerful sense of all-eyes-on-me.

A deep breath, and she smiled, heading for the door.

"Bye guys," she said softly. "See you tomorrow."

As she stepped out into the night, she could swear she heard voices echoing the sentiment.


End file.
